Peter Chianca: My home has gone to the dogs

Tuesday

Feb 26, 2008 at 12:01 AMFeb 26, 2008 at 1:15 AM

As of this writing, I have six dogs and three cats living in my home. Some of them are ours, some of them are guests, and all of them are, at this very moment, running wildly through the house like spooked buffalo. I think they may have gotten it into their heads that somewhere, far off in the distance, a squirrel is mocking them.

Peter Chianca

As of this writing, I have six dogs and three cats living in my home. Some of them are ours, some of them are guests, and all of them are, at this very moment, running wildly through the house like spooked buffalo. I think they may have gotten it into their heads that somewhere, far off in the distance, a squirrel is mocking them.

I’ll admit to having had reservations when my wife, Theresa, proposed taking on this dog-sitting assignment, for the same reason my 6-year-old son, Tim, had concerns: “That’s too many dogs!” he said, once again having to explain to his parents the totally obvious, like when he tells us that broccoli is disgusting. Tim was concerned that their three dogs wouldn’t get along with our three dogs, and that, in all the confusion, he would be eaten like an errant bag of Beggin’ Strips.

But Theresa had an equally compelling counter-argument: “You can never have too much love in the house,” she said, with “love” apparently meaning “dogs.” See, only 10 years of marriage and I’m already starting to crack the code.

AUDIO SLIDESHOW: Canine Companions

The first thing I learned when our canine visitors showed up is that dogs are not like human houseguests. For instance, human guests tend to think twice before they lie on your couch with their tongues hanging out and all four appendages splayed up in the air, or eat out of your kitchen garbage, or mark their territory on your living room carpet. I mean guests who aren’t relatives.

Dogs, on the other hand, simply think, “Oh, I must live HERE now,” and immediately start lying on and eating and marking pretty much anything they come across, sometimes all at once. And sure enough, after some initial circling and growling it wasn’t long before we had all six dogs splayed out and snoring all over our living room floor — they seemed to go on forever, like the wounded soldiers at the railroad yard in “Gone with the Wind.”

Granted, there were a few challenges as everybody got used to the routine. It was particularly tricky getting all six dogs out the front door — four would go out, and while I was waiting for the other two to reach the door, two of them would come back in, and the last two would stop dead in their tracks, clearly sensing that something was up. (“Wait, weren’t we going out? And why isn’t my head in the garbage?”) This process would go on for about 10 minutes, until they were all outside or I would just give up and put down more newspapers.

It was during this process that our chief cat, Buddy, realized he could take advantage of the commotion and try to slip outside, apparently under the impression that he’d be mistaken for one of the dogs. It got to the point where I half expected to start finding him waiting at the front door, wearing fake floppy ears and trying to look nonchalant.

Walks also presented a few logistical issues, involving two cars and various combinations of pets and kids, and the distinct possibility that you might wind up coming home without one of them, or with something extra, like a stray beagle or a raccoon. Add 10 inches of fresh snow and that compounds the problem — there were more than a few moments when I thought we wouldn’t find Teddy the Pekingese until the spring, disheveled and wet on the baseball field with all the dropped gloves.

But after six days of cohabitation, I have to say we’ve gotten into a pretty good routine. Nobody’s growling, Penny and Teddy have taken up wrestling, and Buddy the cat has made (platonic) friends with Buddy the dog. They’ve even all started galumphing merrily out the front door in single file, in a demonstration that to our neighbors must look not unlike clowns spilling out of a tiny car. (“Look honey … I think the Chiancas got 12 more dogs!”)

In fact, I think everyone (especially, say, heads of state) should be required to live with six dogs for a week, just to see how well creatures of different backgrounds can manage to get along with each other. It’s actually kind of inspiring, to the point where I think I’ll actually miss them when they go, even if I won’t have to step over sleeping dogs to leave the house like a cat burglar avoiding Dobermans. And it also proves that, as usual, Theresa was right: You can’t have too much love in the house.

Or too many newspapers.

Peter Chianca is a CNC managing editor and the brains behind “The At Large Blog” (chianca-at-large.blogspot.com) and “The Shorelines Blog” (blogs.townonline.com/shorelines). To receive At Large by e-mail, write to info@chianca-at-large.com, with the subject line “SUBSCRIBE.”